Realities Divided
by Anonymous.Publishers
Summary: Composition of one shots Huddy
1. Not my Chance, my Choice

SPOILERS FOR 6x07. Haven't caught the link? Send me a private message. However, if you're expecting a happy one shot, I suggest you change the page. This will be a one shot, and one shot only. The last one shot I tried to do I ended up continuing. So, enjoy.

Song: Richard Marx, Right here Waiting

* * *

  
"Why, hello Juan Francisco de la Bodega y Quadra. Had no idea you were sailing in from Lima." Wilson stated sarcastically. House had just walked in the lobby, catching Wilson in a heartbeat. With side burns going down his cheek, a ridiculous amount of mousse twirled in his hair, and the "Miami Vice" wear.  
"You're the one to talk," House retorted.  
"I actually fit the attire. They said 80's. Not the 1700's."  
"Didn't specify which '80's'."  
"Of course." both of them walked towards their table, along with everyone else. To no surprise, there was only one person missing among them all.  
After taking a seat with everyone, he became rather quiet. Losing himself into silence, isolating himself from everyone, and every sound that echoed through the room. The only thing to run through his mind were the bitter thoughts he had, and the deadening wishes that failed to come true. And to compensate for all this, he drowned himself in scotch, a lovely friend he'd come to know and love. Rushing down his throat glass after glass, he began to feel more at ease.  
After an hour or so, everyone, including Wilson, had left House to join the dance floor. He didn't feel lonesome, rather he enjoyed the sight of Wilson, wasted Wilson, discoing the night away.  
Yet, all this vanished and his throat had run dry, as a boulder sat in his stomach with his heartbeat escalating. She had finally come through the doors.  
Focusing his eyes on her--who had finally been alone in all the time he had seen her--he found himself seeing flashes. One flutter of blinks, he would see her now, another flutter, and he retained the sole image of her so many years ago. Swallows continuously sent down his throat, he avoided eye contact, but kept watch from his distance. She had gone over to the floor and greeted everyone showing of her outfit, and looking at everyone else. She took the direction of Madonna, wearing a leather skirt, fishnets and cropped jacket. Hair like a black mane, she gathered the image of her back then.  
Tension building up inside of him, he stood up, and walked to the lobby balcony, sneaking out discreetly with no one to notice.  
After reaching the balcony, he escaped through his mind, reliving the past few days. Drowning out the music, and going into another silence, he thought about everything. What she had said to him about what he had done to her...

_"You're being pathetic!"  
"You shouldn't expect me to stop."  
"I'm not something to win, House."  
"I'm fighting, for you."  
"Yes, I know. So I am asking you now to **back off**. I will not let you drive away the one successful relationship I've had for a long time. I am not going to let you cry to mommy because you don't approve or whatever you have against Lucas. This is beyond you. A far reaching goal you should certainly be proud of. And--God. How impossibly naive could I have been to not have seen this coming. I had this belief that maybe Mayfield really did change you, and you would have even an ounce of respect for me, so that for once I could be happy. But congratulations House. You've proven me wrong. Again." Remaining silent, he squinted his eyes and clenched his teeth a little.  
"I really need to learn--to stop finding the good in you." Suppressing tears and another flood of anger that could lash out again, she turned on her heel, and left...._

He knew what things she really meant, and what she didn't. Yet it still hurt to know how far over her line he had stepped. How much he was pushing her away. He was now shutting his eyes tightly as he leaned over the banister. He couldn't help but feel such regret--such remorse. How the pain ached--  
The music had flooded back into his ears before hearing footsteps coming up the stairs, sensing it was her, he launched himself in a different direction, avoiding her at all costs. But he couldn't.  
"House?" she said meekly. Looking down, he spoke in a low and soft tone.  
"I'm here."  
"The theme's 80's."  
"Preferably 1780's for me. Everyone else has obviously done 1980's." surprised to see it, when he turned to face her, a soft smile had been painted on her lips.  
"Surprised you had the will to see me tonight." he continued. Opening her mouth to say something, she failed to gather words and closed it, followed by a sigh. She tried to begin again.  
"I--overreacted. I do that."  
"You trying to make an excuse for me?"  
"I do that too. But, it doesn't change what happened."  
"I know." he tried his best to keep a slow and calm tone with her. He was very cautious and almost--caring-like.  
"I'm sorry." he continued. She pursed her lips, slowly blinked her eyes and nodded very slightly. And then, a song began to play. Too familiar for tonight. For the situation. For right now.  
With the beginning piano solo, House grimaced, and Cuddy couldn't help but smile.  
"Out of all the songs to play." House whispered under his breath.  
"This is why I hate the **19**80's." Cuddy began to laugh before holding out her hands to him. He just looked at her with widened eyes.  
"How can we not dance to this?" she asked him with a smile.  
"By me walking away." and he began to go down the steps, but she grabbed onto his arm, holding him back.  
"You owe me." he hesitated to answer to her. He let out a sigh, as he went back up the steps, grabbing her hand.  
"I lead this time." he stated sarcastically. By the time they started to dance, Richard Marx began to sing. Swaying carefully back and forth, House thought of the pain--but once she rested her face against his shoulder, he discovered its worth.  
"I think you we're wearing the same thing when we first danced to this." House stated.  
"Oh, I really wish I could say the same. You're probably as drunk as you were."  
"I'm not that wasted."  
"I beg to differ."  
"I'm still standing aren't I? You had to lead last time just because I was practically falling over."  
"Which was a good thing on my end." she began. Without his reply, she continued.  
"You proved to me you were an insane pain in the ass when you weren't sober. One of the interesting qualities that remained when you _were_ sober."  
"You kept your title of being a control freak bitch for--well now." rolling her eyes, she lifted her head off him to look directly at him.  
"What did I really see in you." she asked with soft eyes. He swallowed as he stared down at her.  
"What did you see in me," she continued.  
"out of everyone there, you decided to be a pain in my ass."  
"The larger the funner?" he asked her. Breaking another smile on her face, he breathed with relief.  
"I think you just enjoyed taking chances." she stated. He slightly shook his head no, and squinted his eyes quickly in one direction, before meeting back to her.  
"I wasn't taking chances with you. I couldn't have. You weren't a chance. You we're a choice." stopping them, she stood still as she looked behind his eyes. Beginning to swallow again, he held himself from the temptation. Still holding his hand, he could feel the warmth beginning to build on their skin. He could see her fighting to. Fighting the same temptation, the same tension--  
"Baby?" Lucas asked. House looked up as Cuddy turned around. She hid their hands behind her back as Lucas stepped forward. He had appeared by the stairs, but not in the 80's attire. He looked prepared to go out.  
"Nice outfit, House." he didn't seem angry at House anymore either. He was smiling greatly.  
"What are you doing here?" Cuddy asked him.  
"It's already quarter to twelve. You told me to pick you up?" bowing her head, she whispered carefully under her breath, "of course." House smirked when he heard her, and let go of her hand. She looked at him and he jerked his head a little. Like a signal, allowing her to leave with Lucas.  
"I will see you tomorrow then." she said calmly to House. Lucas then took her by the waist and they walked down the steps together. House just watched them leave the lobby. Allowing Lucas to go out first, Cuddy slowed her speed towards the door, and glanced slightly over at him before pushing through the doors.  
Boring his eyes by the windows, he just whispered,  
"The one chance that never was. The only choice I wanted to make."


	2. This is what's Easy

A knock sounded on his door. Another headache to come along, he breathed it out, and just ignored the elevating raps.  
"House--" Cuddy had muffled from outside.  
"we need to talk." she continued with not only seriousness, but a deeper concern within her tone.  
"It's open." he almost whispered. Apparently hearing him, the handle twisted and opened the door. Cuddy slightly launched herself back with surprise, taken aback at the sight of House.  
"We need to admit you."  
"I'm fine."  
"You've been throwing up for hours straight. You've had constant headaches, your eyes are always bloodshot every time I walk through that door. You need treatment."  
"I need _silence_."  
"All the aforementioned means its just getting worse."  
"The pain, or the _death sentence_?" he asked with sarcasm. She just stared at him blankly, unsure really of what to do with him.  
A month prior, House had been diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. Ever since then, he's refused treatment, and remained at his post. Everyone else furiously insisted otherwise, but no matter what they said or do--it could not affect him.  
"Enough is never enough." he finally said to her. Not daring to look at him back, she walked over and sat with him on the couch. But then she began to examine him. Checking his heart rate, pulse, his temperature--everything. He had a cold sweat splattered upon his face, condensing into droplets. Sliding off her jacket and tossing her shoes to the side, she got up off the couch, and gathered things from the kitchen and his bathroom. She had towels, a bucket or waste basket of some kind, and blankets.  
"Wilson."  
"Your own assumption." she stated, fixing him under the blankets.  
"I've been like this for days, maybe weeks. If it was under your own will, you would've done _this_, particularly sooner instead of just visiting. Jimmy wants a follow up." she lifted his feet up, allowing herself to be seated on the couch with him.  
"We both share the same concerns. I was just brave enough to follow through."  
"Nice." he spoke quietly.  
"Rest." she said dominantly.  
"You woke me up in the first place." he grouched. He turned on the couch as she went for the remote, and began watching "Sleepless in Seattle".  
"Oh you've got to be kidding me." he uttered through the couch.  
"You're asleep, and I'm watching."  
"God,the pure--" she flipped the remote, and the television turned off.  
"That easy?" he asked her, as he lifted his face from the pillows.  
"Whatever it takes you to shut up, yeah." she paused for a moment, before continuing with a question.  
"'Enough is never enough'?"  
"You are a crappy doctor." he stated sarcastically, readjusting himself into an upright position. Realizing what she had quoted him on, he hesitated a little.  
"You don't know what I meant?"  
"I'm hoping I misunderstood."  
"You didn't." he said quickly. "everything when enough, isn't enough. Which category does that most occur--_pain._ As if I wanted so much more." remaining silent, she just rubbed his calf up and down with her soft hand. The other, rested underneath his on his stomach, after he laid back again.  
"I can't admit myself."  
"When did we get back there?" she asked with surprise.  
"It's what would come next." hesitating to answer, unsure of it herself, she just spat it out.  
"If you aren't going to be there--I'll be here."  
"Oh God, here we go." he lifted his legs off of her, and began to walk around. She remained stationary on the couch.  
"I don't need you." He argued from across the room.  
"this change of scenery, justifies your emotions toward me. Which is why you not only feel obligated to stay, but because you think it's your job." she got off the couch. Voices raised.  
"It _is_ a job. Part of my job. Something I've been willing to take. It's not easy--it never is, never will be. But I carry on with it anyway because I care about you. We all do."  
"Then stop treating me like I've changed. The way you talk, look at me--body language. Nothing's changed."  
"**EVERYTHING'S** changed!" she got up closer to him, almost lip to lip. She began to whisper, but very aggressively. "you think you can make things okay by rationalizing everything. Emotions are irrational. Dying involves emotion, it involves change. You have to accept the difference. You should expect us to be devastated. To feel loss. To be angry." holding off on a reply, he glared deep into her eyes, like he was searching.  
"Why, should you be angry." he asked. Shocked at his retort, she just ignored it, and continued her rant.  
"Dying will be irrational in some way whether you like it or not. Knowing death, isn't easy. A lot of things aren't easy."  
"Define easy." he spoke quietly to her.  
"This." leaning in, to barely catch his lips, the warm met the cold, causing energy.  
"Out of all things--this isn't easy." he started at her.  
"Because. Of. What."  
"Enough is never enough. We can't. _You_ can't."  
"I'm tired of waiting for enough to finally be enough." She then rekindled the energy, creating flames--everywhere.

---

Keeping his head on her chest as they laid on the floor, she pet him slowly. With him fast asleep, she made gentle whispers over and over in his ear.  
_"This is enough, House. For us this is always enough."_


	3. Where we Stand

Short one shot on "The L Word" spoilers

* * *

"Hey--you. 'Nother round." House uttered drunkenly at the bartender. To House's surprise, he had not taken away his keys yet. It was either, he was getting better at looking only barely tipsy, or this guy was just completely stupid.  
The air of the bar was very dry, filled with smoke and poorly done songs by the other drunk ladies and gents. Despising them all, House sat in solitary at the end of the bar, closest to the door, so if needed, he could make a quick escape.  
Finally the bartender came back around, and poured out another glass for House. Today was Tuesday. Which meant, whiskey night.  
Monday was bourbon, Tuesday whiskey, Wednesday was gin and tonic, Thursday specially set aside for night with Wilson, Friday was rum, Saturday for scotch and Sunday--_anything_ he could possibly shove down his throat.  
Snatching out his phone for the hundredth time, seeing a few missed calls on his phone and a couple voicemails, he just stuck it back in his pocket, and threw back the last of the glass repulsively, clearing his throat and slamming the base onto the counter top.  
That's when the doors pushed open, the first in the past hour he had spent there. Not bothering to glance over--nor did he have to--he remained face forward. The figure had carefully taken a seat next to him. Hitting the counter with his fist, he caught the bartender's attention.  
"Scotch on the rocks, with a twist." Lucas recited to him. After he walked away, Lucas waited for House to address him.  
"What service can I render to you?" House asked him sarcastically.  
"Just here for a drink. Maybe--even a talk would be nice."  
"Cuddy." he stated.  
"Just me. However--she's still worrying. She doesn't stop worrying."  
"I'm fine." he ended with a sigh.  
"You think I'm gonna believe that in your state?"  
"It was a long-shot." the bartender finally came back with his beverage, and he threw back some before talking again.  
"Talk to me."  
"There's nothing to talk about."  
"Right. Let's not play BS right now? I've seen it, don't pretend you're not--feeling anything."  
"I'm wasted. You're wasting your time if you want to get a legit answer from me right now. Come again in a few hours."  
"You're sober enough to deflect. I'm sure I can get a legit answer before the next drop in coherence." House took a swig from his glass before answering.  
"What do you want me to say."  
"Anything."  
"I'm using."  
"Seriously?"  
"No. I thought anything was referring to--anything."  
"About her."  
"Anything about her. Great bod."  
"Alright. I got that."  
"You expecting me to say I love her?"  
"Only if you do," he said calmly.  
"do you?"  
"Define love. Then I think I could tell you."  
"So you love her."  
"Okay--let's say I do. Would you back off?"  
"I--I wouldn't, unless she told me to."  
"You don't want to let go, unless you think she'd be better off?"  
"Ye-s."  
"Admirable."  
"Sure."  
"In that case, hold on to her."  
"You think she's better off with me?"  
"No."  
"Then, why let go?"  
"There may be several other guys out there that would be good for her. Happiness she has yet to discover. To experience. And, knowing that, I also know I can't give her that," another swig before he continued.  
"but since you can--you should."  
"I'm finding this hard to believe. Not cause of the wasted thing--but this whole week--"  
"Omit, this whole week. I'm done." Gulping down the rest, he got up tossing some money on the counter and began to walk towards the doors.  
"Hey, I think she knows." pausing at the doors, he turned to look at him.  
"She knows it's there too. Which is why--she's trying as hard as she can to stay away from you."  
"And--are you okay with that?"  
"No. I don't need to be. It's not like I'm looking to marry her."  
"You say that now. You think I was looking to _love_ her?" House paused.  
"now where do I stand?" and he walked out, leaving Lucas with all the other drunkards and junkies, wasting their lives away.

Walking in with Wilson the following morning at work, he spotted Cuddy coming out of the elevator. Glancing over and catching her eye, time seemed to slow, and come to a stop in their presence. Just looking at her, in his mind he asked her softly.  
_Where do I stand? Where do you? Where do we?_  
And she looked back, as if replying with her glistening slate eyes...  
_You stand in front of me, I stand beside him. For now, we stand divided._


	4. Learning Silence

Sticking to one shots for now until my real fan fics can materialize into fixed ideas. Until then, enjoy all my one shots.  
Consider this--post EF.

Song: Come back to Me by David Cook

* * *

  
_  
If the nights were this easy,  
and the days were longer than said,  
for once I'd be capable enough,  
to release you from my head._

For every toss I plan to make,  
it replies with constant turning,  
and escaping by shutting my eyes,  
the attempt just leaves me burning.

For every smile that grazed your face,  
for every stare left broken,  
for the laughter that you gave,  
the dreading words unspoken.

The guilt stands beneath the surface,  
a mere pigment in my skin,  
yet it causes far more problems,  
affecting me far within.

If the nights were just this easy,  
and the days were longer than done,  
for once I could finally say,  
this time I actually won.

Gasp.  
House had shot upright on the couch with a cold thread of sweat framing his face. His face in complete alarm, he looked around him in terror.  
Darkness practically consuming him, he unfixed his eyes from the trance and fell back yet again onto his pillow. Out the window, the moon gleamed with glory, but for some reason continued to disappear behind the clouds. As if hiding in shame. The nights' air was too sweet, and too cold. The third day of October; Why wouldn't it be?  
Wiping down his face, and running his hands through his hair, he didn't dare go back to sleep. This reoccurring scenario had already happened one too many times tonight. Moreover, the entire week. So he sat up, carrying over his leg onto the cold floor, and glanced at the wall clock. He sighed in aggravation seeing how late--four a.m. to be exact--it already was. Seeing no point to actually go back to sleep, he forced himself into the kitchen and made coffee for himself. Wilson could make his own when he would wake. And besides, he needed all the coffee he could get for the long day ahead.

---

"Chase--get a tox screen. She's obviously an idiot if she thinks she just can't get drunk and then do drugs. Cameron, get an MRI. Still can't rule out cancer till we do. Foreman, search the home. There's probably more than unprotected sex that she's hiding from us." A familiar command that seemed to echo throughout the outer-office gave an eerie feeling to House. Watching them walk out, he himself walked into his office and taken by surprise, immediately met ends with Cuddy.  
"Whoa. Why hello there--what happened with your face. You living up to your nickname now, partypants?" he said as he walked to his desk. She sighed in annoyance before answering.  
"You have a lot of them, let's just say all of them."  
"Okay,"  
"You know the deal."  
"yes I do. No patients, no procedures. It looks like Lucifer has given me my powers, but with [i]benefits[/i]. Nothing's changed since last week either. Throwing that aside. What was your problem last night."  
"I'm tired."  
"Clearly."  
"I don't know what else there is to discuss beyond that."  
"Right." He got up again as she began to walk out and walked right up to her, his head practically about to arch over.  
"Hey." he whispered. She turned around, and found herself inches from his face.  
"happy birthday." he finished. Scoffing, before smiling greatly, she looked down at the floor, and up again.  
"Who told you."  
"What, you don't think I'd remember--"  
"No." she stated firmly.  
"You don't seem to appreciate the gesture."  
"Like I said. I'm tired. Let's try this again in a few hours." shocked at her retort, he focused his eyes at her as she walked out.  
"Oh-kay."  
Walking back to her office, all she could do was swear under her breath with one tear to streaming down her face. With no surprise to her--this unhappiness was always common on her own day.

"She hates Douglas." House proclaimed as he busted open Wilson's door.  
"What ever happened to hello's--the greatest salutation ever created."  
"Also the most mundane, therefore I opened with this one." he plopped a seat onto Wilson's couch. Basically starting how all their great conversations started.  
"Elaborate."  
"Hello was used--"  
"No, the relevant one."  
"Right. I said happy birthday to her."  
"Rel-e-vant. Yes I think I said that right."  
"She's pissed now."  
"Angry at you, ah yes. Of course. She is pissed at you for [i]something[/i], you being the pain in her ass which means she despises Douglas, her boyfriend. I see where you're going with this."  
"He's done something."  
"No, you are searching for fault in him, non-existing faults because she caught up with you."  
"He's not perfect."  
"I'm not saying that he is."  
"He's done something."  
"No, you have. You're torturing her with all of this. She's torn between you two, and you're both pulling her to shreds."  
"So you're saying I should give up. Stop fighting."  
"I'm saying, stop fighting her. Stop fighting her, by pushing her to choose you. You're trying to capture air House. Yes, it's there. You can't see it, you can't feel it. I'm not surprised that the uncertainty is pushing your limits. But you have to gently carry it in. It's too quick, and too fragile to just steal away." House sighed, and stood up, walked in front of Wilson and opened the door.  
"Well then tell me, what do you do, when you're running out of air?" Wilson didn't answer.  
"I can't let him suffocate me. Because--I need to breathe." he gently closed the door, leaving Wilson in dismay.

---

House had no where to go. He was free from clinic, no dealing with patients period--no procedures to carry out. All he could do was toss his ball against the wall as he laid back in his chair. As he bounced it back and forth with the handle of his cane, his force intensified. Eventually driving it off course to ricochet against the glass doors and back onto his desk. He had enough, he couldn't hold back any longer.  
In a swift movement, he had strode to his doors and flung them open, and he began to go down the hallways in perfect strides. He reached the elevator in a matter of seconds.  
Reaching the lobby floor, he dodged and ducked people that came his way. He finally made it to the clinic and swept by the nurses. But as soon as his eyes reached her office, he came to a shifted stop. (Play)  
Her lips were tied with Douglas, who had a colorful bouquet in one hand, while Cuddy held a charm bracelet. Switching his eyes from left to right, he stood stationary. When he just pulled her into an embrace, she immediately caught his eyes. Her facial expression changed. He slightly shook his head at her, as if motioning to stay. And then he gave a curt nod, before looking both ways, and dashing out of there as fast as his leg could allow.  
Part of leaving Mayfield had an impact on House. He decided to stir up his own lessons. Maybe not consciously, but lessons that benefited him in a way where they could pay him back later. This particular lesson he had accomplished without waver, and without hesitation. The lesson, of silence. Learning to silence.


	5. All Strings Attached

House and Cuddy Past.  
College Style.  
Song fic.  


* * *

  
Cuddy slapped her phone shut as she got out of the car with some of her friends. They were all laughing as they made their way into the club.  
Pushing through the doors, the darkness had become darker, but with lights swirling around.  
They all went their separate ways. Cuddy had plenty of places to go, but her attention was drawn towards the dance floor. Guys glanced her way as she circled the floor.

_It's getting late  
I'm making my way over to my favorite place  
I gotta get my body moving  
Shake the stress away  
I wasn't looking for nobody when you looked my way  
Possible candidate, yeah_

House was at the far end of the bar, leaning casually onto the counter in his slick attire. As slick as it was, it seemed a little out of place being in a club like this.  
Black fedora tilted down, hands casually resting in his black slacks with a black suit to embrace his fit torso, you could mistake him for one of them "cats" from back then. As if this wasn't dazzling enough, his voice clear and smooth tonight, a slight stubble along his jaw, and dangerous eyes hidden by the hat waited for the prey to come closer.  
Finding her way onto the dance floor he watched her, sipping his rocky scotch, and retrieved the lemon on the glasses edge with his teeth. Grinding down, it stung his tongue and throat. After relieving all the juices, he spit it back into the ice setting down the glass onto the counter before taking her on.

_Who knew  
That you'd be up in here looking like you do  
You're making staying over here, impossible  
Baby, I must say your aura is incredible  
If you don't have to go, don't_

Don't. Move.  
He had snuck up behind her and carefully whispered. Stopped dead in the center of the floor, he let a shiver run up and down her spine before he rested his hand on her shoulder. She didn't dare turn around.  
"Are you alone." he asked her quietly.  
"Friends; Girls."  
"No date? You lesbian? Cause this would make this encounter all the more hot."  
"Are we gonna talk or dance?" she said with a broken voice. As he slid his hands down to her waist, they began to sway with the music. She trembled a little. She had no idea who this was yet this feeling was amazing. This dangerous anxiety-like feeling.  
"Don't be afraid," twisting her around, he kept his head bowed. He tried his best to keep his voice unrecognizable.

_Do you know what you started?  
I just came here to party  
But now we're rocking on the dance floor, actin' naughty  
Your hands around my waist  
Just let the music play  
We're hand in hand, chest to chest and now we're face to face_

She put her hands on his shoulders and kept moving. Both of them were twisting and turning, both bodies matching up in perfect sync.  
"You normally do this to girls you randomly run into?"  
"No."  
"So why am I so special?"  
"I didn't randomly run into you." he spun her around again, chest to back and she put her hands on the side of his face.  
"You _know_ me?" he hesitated.  
"No. I just knew you could dance."  
"You don't know me."  
"I can just pick up things like that."  
"Interesting."  
"Why..." he slid his voice. Things were getting smoother, but the heat of the floor intensified, both of them sweating.  
"You--sound like a guy I know."  
"Do I know him?"  
"You from around here?" she asked with a laugh.  
"Yeah."  
"You should."  
"Popular much?"  
"You could say."  
"You like him?"  
"In a way."  
"And how,"  
"Enough."  
"You're comfortable talking about him to a complete stranger, sounds like more than enough."  
"And how would you know."  
"I told you--" he slid down, grazing her legs and slid back up to her ear.  
"I know people."  
"Right.." spinning her again she came in a little tighter, his arm practically embracing her waist with head to head. They were isolated within the crowd of people, the passion and heat rising.

_Baby are you ready cause it's getting close  
Don't you feel the passion ready to explode?  
What goes on between us no-one has to know  
This is a private show_

"Why the hell are you wearing a suit.." she asked almost breathless.  
"Why the hell are you wearing sexy? Oh wait, that's not a brand name."  
"I'm sweating a flood here, I can only imagine what its like under there."  
"Wanna find out?"  
SLAP. A quick whip was swung along his cheek.  
"Yeah yeah. I swear, I don't need another House."  
"--who?" he asked 'clueless'.  
"Doesn't matter, just shut up."  
"You keep talking about him."  
"Because you keep reminding me."  
"You're reminding yourself."  
"I didn't know dancing with you would require twenty questions."  
"Trust me you already met the requirements to dance with me."  
"You're one to have standards?"  
"More like expectations. I don't let just any floozy pass my way."  
"I'm a floozy now?"  
"Like I said, you past my expectations. And may I add, with flying colors."  
"Good to know."  
"Yes-s." he twisted her out for the final time chest to back again while he rested his chin on her shoulder beside her ear.  
"Just look what you started.." he whispered in her ear.  
"What,"  
"Came here with the guys, now I'm here with you acting naughty. Actually, that's a good thing."  
"How is it my fault, you came onto me--"  
"It's either the booze prior to this or like I said before, you're wearing the sexy. I think I'd kill myself if you weren't some past hooker or something."  
"I wasn't." he let out a 'groan'.  
"Then you're just another girly on campus looking to get wasted."  
"I was. Now I'm just sweating here with you."  
"Now _that_ was hot."  
"Hence why I said it, _House_." he tensed.  
"What are you doing here?" they kept dancing, like water that doesn't stop flowing.  
"You idiot. Don't play stupid. I knew you wanted me here."  
"So you knew all along this was me?"  
"At first I was actually really scared. I knew you'd come in eventually, just not like that."  
"Why ya gotta jerk my chain girl?" he asked sarcastically.  
"Because you jerked mine. And because you forced me to dance--"  
"I didn't force you."  
"Right. Like you just didn't have the advantage."  
"You could've walked away." he paused before going on. "So, what now your place?"  
"What dancing, now sex?"  
"You knew as much as I do that this is where things were going."  
"You're an idiot."  
"No strings attached." he quickly said.  
"Right."  
"I'll detach easily. You on the other hand." she hesitated.

_I wanna take you away  
Let's escape into the music, DJ let it play  
I just can't refuse it  
Like the way you do this  
Keep on rockin' to it  
Please don't stop the, please don't stop the  
Please don't stop the music_

"You better be sober enough by the time I meet you. Fifteen minutes."  
"Whatever you say, party pants." she smiled as they broke apart, both reaching separate ends of the floor to meet back at her dorm.  
After tonight, their views of each other would quickly change.


	6. All Hallows Eve

**Post Brave Heart, Happy Belated-Halloween Huddies. Let's just say this compensates for the lack of episode this week. :)**

* * *

"_Duck?_ Again?" House asked Wilson. In his office, House just kicked back in awe of Wilson's costume. He was also wearing an outfit--Batman--but at the moment there was no contest.  
"It's my favorite costume, so what?"  
"You expect to give scares with that?"  
"I'm appealing to the younger demographic."  
"Do I need to repeat myself?"  
"I'm taking Rachel out with my godson tonight and wearing your spilled guts costume might frighten them a bit."  
"She's one, how are you taking her trick-or-treating?"  
"Cuddy's going out with Lucas, just doing her a favor."  
"Right."  
"She's Po."  
"She's a _what_?"  
"She's Po. You know, teletubbies?"  
"Good God, she's wearing that?"  
"What? Po's cute."  
"You think they're all cute." At that moment, the team walked in, all in costumes of their own. Cameron appeared as Cinderella, Chase came as Prince Charming, and Foreman came as a ghetto Frankenstein.  
"What'd Cuddy come as?" House asked paying no attention to the team.  
"I think she's--the hooker or stripper version of Wonder Woman."  
"Interesting."  
"And interesting is loosely translated to either, 'Oh that's sexy' or 'how hot'?"  
"Both. In different ways. Speaking of the superhooker, I'll be back." and he got up from his chair, slid his mask down and flipped up his cape as he walked out. Wilson just stood for a moment and managed to take a glance at the team. He smiled at them and they smiled awkwardly back before he waddled himself out of there.  
Speeding down the hallway he caught the elevators before they caught his cape, and he made his way down to the lobby. As soon as the doors opened he jolted out and smiled at the scenery. A darker tone in the lobby along with the several decorations suspending from the ceilings gave an eerie feel to anyone walking in or out.  
Whipping open the clinic doors he passed by the nurses going straight to Cuddy's office. He slowed as he made his way in.  
Closing the door slowly he looked at her working casually at her desk, but with her body wrapped in metallic clothes. He just smiled as he waited for her to look up. As soon as she did, she let out a giggle.  
"I didn't think you'd dress up today. Let alone dress up as Batman."  
"You shouldn't underestimate the cripple. I limp by day and fly by night. _Beware_. And you shouldn't laugh at me until you've seen Wilson with the--"  
"Duck costume, I know." their voices overlapped.  
"Why you dump the kid on him tonight?"  
"I didn't he asked if I had plans, I said I was taking Rachel with me and Lucas and we went on about how someone should be taking her trick-or-treating and the end result, obviously..."  
"Why would he be taking his godson anyway..." with a short pause, she just looked at him, waiting to finish his thought.  
"That manipulative bitch. I'll be back." smiling and slightly angry, he strut out of there and back to Wilson's office leaving Cuddy in an awkward state. Reaching Wilson's office, he burst the door open to emphasize his entrance.  
"You meddling, annoyingly analytical, manipulative bitch."  
"I go by each description, or all three is fine."  
"You let me go over there and nearly allowed myself to get pulled into your little--"  
"I'm sure I have **no** idea what you're talking about."  
"Why did you volunteer to take out the kid?"  
"I didn't." House got up to his desk and starting pointing fingers.  
"YES, you did."  
"She asked me to take her."  
"Right. Because you would just so happen to be taking your 'son'--"  
"Godson--"  
"--out trick-or-treating? You'd rather be drunk, at a bar, with me and a few floozies."  
"Of course I would. I mean, why should I do a friend a favor, and spend some time with my godson whom I barely see now--which is your fault really--when I can be wasted with YOU at a bar you will most likely abandon me at."  
"I didn't abandon you. You refused to leave."  
"Right." Wilson attempted to get back to work, but House suddenly jerked, about to exhale his epiphany.  
"You don't care about taking out Rachel. You don't even care about taking out your godson. You care, about me caring that you're taking out Rachel. You wanted me to tell Cuddy that I could take her out, that I could run the favor and.."  
"Go on," he spoke with half a smile.  
"You manipulative bitch."  
"So."  
"You'd use--"  
"I used no one."  
"You knew about this night, and you added your godson as a factor in your own manipulation?"  
"He's not a factor. He's a constant. Things wouldn't change either way." he scoffed at him. There was a pause, and then he continued.  
"Go."  
"I don't want the kid."  
"But you **do**."  
"You want to think, that I want the kid, because I want her."  
"Is that a confession? Or is this just more clearer than I thought?"  
"I'm not--"  
"Go. Get yourself down there, throw some generosity on like I know you can, and 'take the kid in my stead'." House bore his eyes at him, before turning on his heel and leaving with a quick whisper under his breath,  
"Generosity my ass..." Wilson snickered and continued to his work as House made his way back to Cuddy's office.  
Opening her doors, he found the room empty. Expecting a relief, disappointment filled instead. An odd sensation at the bottom of his stomach, and an uneasiness in his chest. Glancing around quick, he left, without hesitation.

* * *

_That Night - Wilson's Apartment_

"TRICK-OR-TREAT!" kids hollered at the door. Handfuls of kids had reached the apartments in the last hour as they waited for Cuddy to arrive with Rachel. It was nearly seven.  
"So you don't want her to know that you're taking her?" Wilson asked from the living room. He was fixing up his godson, Jack's costume--firefighter. House echoed a response from the kitchen as he washed dishes from the sink. He had returned to normal clothing.  
"Thought we went through this earlier...." he seemed evidently distracted.  
"You lacked an actual answer. You know, by not saying anything at all. I'm sure you could've come up with something--" the faucet closed shut. House leaned on the sink with his hands propped on each side. He stood stationary for about a minute when a knock sounded on the door. Struggling to open the door with his beak in the way, Wilson opened to Cuddy. She was dressed for a party with Rachel in her arms dressed as the red teletubby.  
"Hey, she looks cute. House, take a look." Wilson held onto the door and gestured House over, but he just glanced at him with aggravation from his position at the sink. Taking it as a sign, he stuttered for words as Cuddy handed Rachel over.  
"I--uh, think he stepped out for--er--a drink."  
"Oh. I thought you guy_s_ would be taking the kids."  
"He's too busy getting wasted for a messy orgy."  
"_Hey_--kids?" Cuddy uttered with alarm.  
"She's one, hes--oblivious."  
"Right. Well, I'll drop by in a couple hours. Have fun." she ended with a smile before taking off. Closing the door, he turned to Jack waiting patiently with his empty bucket on the couch.  
"Uncle Wilson, what's an orgy?" House bit his lip and looked over at the 'deer in the headlights' Wilson and let go a hard laugh. He then limped over and slipped on his jacket while Wilson gathered all their belongs with the sustained look on his face.  
"Oh stop worrying. All seven year old's know what an orgy is." House 'reassured' him as he took Rachel.  
"What seven year old's do you know?" he asked blankly. They opened the door.  
"It's called the clinic and pediatrics department." Closing the door, Wilson took a glance around the apartment, and briefly noticing something hanging from the kitchen-living room arch that seemed to make him smile.

* * *

"Way to ruin the process." House hollered from the doorstep. Wilson was fixing his tail trying to remove it from the gate while the kids and House waited for him to make his way up the path. When unstuck, he waddled up.  
"This--this is not working. I need real clothes." House rang the doorbell as he shook his head at Wilson who was struggling still with his costume. The door opened and a young woman answered with a bowl of candy in her arm. She first smiled at House--in which he returned a meek smile--then at Rachel and Jack. Pouring handfuls into their buckets, her attention returned to Rachel who began to wave at the woman. She smiled and waved back laughing softly before addressing House.  
"Your daughter is adorable. How old is she?"  
"Almost a year," he struggled to say at first. Wilson drew his attention towards House by shifting over his eyes, side glancing. He saw him looking back as if verifying what just happened. Both smiled at her before she closed the door, and hesitated conversation until they reached the sidewalk.  
"Last one for the night? I think we've got enough candy here to rot all of our teeth." Wilson finally said.  
"Where'd you park," House asked calmly.  
"Couple blocks down from here after this first right." They lapsed into silence until they reached their car. Everything surrounding them was full of Halloween delight, but they both seemed to screen everything out. It was all actually silenced by the closing of the doors, and the revving of the engine once they got in. It took a while however, for Wilson with his costume.  
"First one tonight. I'm actually surprised you didn't get a lot of those." Wilson commented as they carefully drove through the street.  
"I did. They were conveyed through smiles and other tiny gestures I shouldn't have even been paying attention to."  
"Anyone would've assumed."  
"Which is why I let her. If I said I wasn't the father, I don't think I'd wanted my face to be posted around as 'Gregory House: Brilliant diagnostician, Halloween pedophile."  
"You wouldn't be seen off as that."  
"If I told her I wasn't the kid's father then I would be."  
"Why do you do that? Rationalize something sweet? That's like making sugar bitter. It doesn't work like that. Just accept that you didn't do it because it was 'logical', accept it for what it is."  
"Okay."  
"Okay?"  
"Oh-kay."  
"Okay--"  
"Shut up." House quickly cut him off, but he returned with one question, causing the rest of the ride to merge into a definite silence.  
"I forgot to ask--where's your cane?"

* * *

"I want to sleep where the hell are his parents?" an irritated House asked Wilson.  
"He's asleep so relax, it's not like we have to do anything."  
"And this one?" he gestured to a fast asleep Rachel on the couch.  
"She should've been picked up by now."  
"Fifty bucks says mommy's wasted."  
"No, I believe that." Wilson ended with a scoff. House glanced at his watch: Quarter to eleven.  
"Keys," House called out from the kitchen.  
"Give her a break, she's having fun."  
"She also knows her responsibilities."  
"What are you going to do, wait at the door?"  
She's got at least five copies of keys ten feet away from the door, I can get in if necessary. KEYS." Wilson sighed and tossed over his keys.  
"Since when do you care about her responsibilities anyway.." he asked as he took a seat on the couch next to Jack. He handed Rachel to House as he stole a candy bar from her bucket.  
"She dumps her on me, I temporarily take the load," he bit into the bar and his voice muffled as he made his way out the door.  
"and when I take care of her load, I take care of her load. Hm." he stopped at the door.  
"What?" Wilson turned his head.  
"I think I should've picked a different metaphor. 'Load' can be interpreted in several ways....interesting." and he walked out, swinging the door closed taking off for Cuddy's House.

"I'm stealing half your candy kiddo. This stuff will rot your teeth faster than mine." House had set her in her crib after removing her costume. She had underclothes on, but Cuddy could change those--if sober enough or at all--when she returned home. Leaving the bucket half full with the candies stuffed in his pockets, he just sat in the rocking chair, waiting for anyone to come home. Nearly drifting off to sleep, he awoke with alarm after his arm propping up his head has slid off the armrest. Then he heard keys thrust into the locks. Quickly standing up, he darted for the hallway and met Lucas and Cuddy at the door.  
"I thought--" Cuddy began.  
"Wow. You're more sober than I thought you'd be."  
"What--What are you doing here?"  
"Kid's asleep. Your welcome. Happy Halloween." he went out the door without another word. Cuddy gestured to Lucas to check on Rachel as she opened the door again, going after House.  
"You're not even going to tell me how the night went?" she called from the porch. He stopped, holding his thigh and turned around to walk back up the steps.  
"How am I supposed to know, I wasn't there."  
"You wouldn't have said 'your welcome' if you hadn't done something."  
"I dropped her off, hence the 'your welcome'. It's the whole thank you-you're welcome process little kiddies learn as their first 'magic words'."  
"Right. Like he could manage two kids by himself with that outrageous costume of his."  
"Don't underestimate the duck. If he wants to he can keep his ducklings in order....They had fun. Lots of candy. But, it should've been you."  
"She's one, House. I don't think she'll remember me missing her first Halloween with her."  
"Even then, the memories you have with her are the ones she'll be able to remember the most. So don't waste your time with her, you'll lose it fast. If you're anything of the mother you think you are and I think you are, you'll spend less time with the boy and more time with her.""  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
"It's not her first kiss, her first boyfriend, first sexual encounter etc.,. that she'll be remembering long after you're gone. At least, if you play your cards right with her."  
"You still remember things with your mom?"  
"Not exactly." and without another word, he took off for Wilson's car across the street, allowing her to watch him drive away into the brisk Hallows Eve night.

* * *

_The Following Week - Tuesday_  
"I think you and House should take some of the leftover candy. I think she's sick of it." Cuddy admitted to Wilson. They were in the cafeteria eating lunch together, like every Tuesday past.  
"House took a bunch when he dropped her off, I thought with that you'd at least be able to finish."  
"Aha, right." With a single pause to swallow and bite, Cuddy continued.  
"We had a weird talk before he left."  
"You guys always have weird talks. He throws suggestive comments, you usually reply with a clever retort, and everyone else in the room is left feeling awkward or uncomfortable, or if they're anything like me inside they are secretly rooting."  
"He was voicing to me his opinion of how I should raise Rachel."  
"Oh, wow. That dad thing really spooked him then." Taking their trays, he dumped the trash in the bin behind them and they both got out of the booths before he continued.  
"Our last house, a woman thought Rachel was his kid." her face turned confused.  
"He told me he didn't go with you guys."  
"He did. But--I guess the woman really got to him. Hence the 'voicing out his opinion' after he dropped her off." They went for the elevators, going for Wilson's floor. They didn't speak till the doors opened again.  
"Why would he be spooked by that?"  
"Not necessarily spooked. More like...I don't know. I have lack of word choice right now." Taking a glance towards his office, she saw him conducting a differential with the team. Half focused, half distracted. She followed Wilson to his door as he began to unlock it with his key. He went straight for his desk as Cuddy held onto the door.  
"I told you he was changing. How much--not a lot. But where they occur are still left to be seen." Pursing her lip, she closed the door behind her and walked towards his office. Standing inconspicuously by the windows she just stared at him. Replaying Wilson's words in her head.  
_Not a lot...where they occur....still left to be seen._


	7. Pieces

Song: Red - Pieces

He had been awake for almost two hours, staring at the ceiling. The ballad of the room was the wind swaying the trees against the window and the breaths she took sleeping beside him, rested on his arm. His hand angled to move his fingers through her hair and massage her scalp. He reminisced of the past three years, leading up to Mayfield.

_I'm here again  
a thousand miles away from you  
a broken mess just scattered pieces of who I am_

The pain began surging back-

_I tried to hard, thought I could do this on my own_

-and the thoughts of death, abandonment, solitary, misery and despair came rushing back into his veins, He could see his past reflected on the blank wall; tainted and scarred with wounds that were yet still left to heal.

_I've lost so much along the way_

He felt the urge to cry, but this was when he looked down.

_then I see your face I know I'm finally yours_

He smiled, as a single tear grazed down his bruised cheek.

_I find everything I thought I lost before_

His heart uplifts, and begins at first steady, but continues to gradually race. Happiness is flowing.

_you call my name, I come to you in pieces_

He kisses her lovingly on her forehead and lingers, before resting his upon hers. She awakens and see his eyes, like crystalline waters.

_I've come undone, but you make sense of who I am_

She shifts her head to kiss his face, lifts her arm to interlock fingers.

_like puzzle pieces in your hand_

She then looks up at him.

_when I see your face I know I'm finally yours_

The longing in her eyes cannot be dismissed.

_I find everything I thought I lost before_

He turns on his side and props his arm up to rest his head. She lays their hands along her midriff. They lock eyes again, and she whispers.

_you call my name, I come to you in pieces_

He lowers his head to kiss her. They both feel it racing through their veins, pumping with their heart; It's the grief they swallowed to get here; the passion that carried them through; the trust that kept them going; the love they always knew.  
They could feel it now.

_I tried so hard  
so hard  
I tried so hard_

Their sufferings were silenced-pain ceased. And in this kiss, grew greater meaning. Greater happiness and greater love that they never knew. They were blessed.  
With this, he let go.

_then I see your face_

He clenched his teeth and swallowed hard.

_I know I'm finally yours_

They were sure

_I find everything, I thought I lost before_

They had _hope_. He then whispered.

_you call my name I come to you in pieces_

She spoke, "I love you." And with that-inside, he felt a piece of his soul come back, from the many  
pieces once shattered before.

_so you can make me whole..._

She now finds and gathers those pieces, put them in safekeeping within her heart, as she mends him back together...

_so you can make me whole._


	8. A Love that does not Alter

"It was only just a dream..."

"Why can't you see how lovely you are?" He first thought to himself. He watched her cautiously fix her face in the bathroom mirror from the doorway, buttoning his cuffs as she applied her make-up and perfume. She then carefully slipped on her earrings, and turned to face him.

"You okay?" She asked softly. "You seem out of it today."

"I'm fine. Clearly, so are you. C'mere." He took her hand and twirled her around. Scanning her up and down, she was flawless. He pulled her into an embrace and just held her.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," he replied. She was glowing. In the depth of his eyes, he perceived her beauty generously, captivated by her-that stare of hers. It simply drew him in; he pecked her once on the lip, which followed a loving press to the forehead. She only smiled, and he led her slowly out into the hallway and by the front door. He slipped on his coat and they were out the door. They were going out tonight-because he wanted to show her off to the world.

On the Streets

They walked down street by street downtown, like everyone else that had been out that Friday night. They took careful steps, hand in hand as each foot resounded a hard tap on the cobblestone walk. They had been going for at least fifteen minutes before Cuddy inquired where they were going.

"Somewhere I've been meaning to take you." He said. "Not that far down this street."

"Better be worth walking this long in these heels..." she smiled.

"Up over there." He gestured over to the alley, which had a hidden sign saying Scarlet. They walked in-a dark illusion filled the small hall they entered in. They walked up the stairs as music grew louder with every step-a jazzy trumpet and sax sang. In a close distance, you could make out a bar, and several sets of dining tables. On the opposite side, a reflection of that with a balcony in the bars stead. They walked through the doorway, and an ensemble was present on a low stage.

"Dr. House!" Loudly spoke the bartender. "Johnny! Get at House." He called out to a nearby waiter. Cuddy looked up at House, who just smiled back at her. The waiter strode on over to escort them to what was his usual spot: fair distance to the bar, while close to the band, while looking out the window near the balcony. They sat down, and five seconds later, glasses of wine presented in their hands.

"That's what I call service." House said. As they drank, they viewed the menu, and suddenly Cuddy began to choke on her wine. She had scanned some of the prices.

"What is this?" She asked. He didn't look out from behind his menu. She waited for a response and spoke his name.

"Shut. Up."

"I'm not eating anything. This is way too much." He only smiled and leaned over the table to reach her face.

"I know the guys. They know me. I saved this place. We only pay for the booze." He paused. "so unless you'd rather be starved, I think we should order now." He threw back some wine, and returned to his menu. She only laughed and they proceeded to figure out their dinner. After eating, they shuffled over to the lounge seats by the band and listened as the music swayed the air.

Eventually, House persuaded Cuddy to come onto the dancefloor. The band adjusted accordingly with slow songs as they glided across the floor. Whatever song played, they swung to the beat. With fast turns, fancy footwork and dramatic dips, they dominated the floor. At the end of each song, the couples would lessen and the applause for the band-as well as for them-increased. Soon enough they were the last couple, and the band set to even softer ballads for a slow dance.

It was around eleven when they both grew tired and decided to break. Cuddy was drawn towards the balcony, the stars aglow while accompanying the burnt moon. She got up from her seat, walked outside and began to zone out. House hesitated to follow, just admiring her. He carefully stepped out, as the music continued to resound. It was a night so peaceful. So serene. It was perfect.

"It got too hot in there." She spoke somewhat breathlessly. She was faced away, her attention gathered toward the downtown lights and the life of the night. He walked up a few steps and slipped his hands in his pockets.

"Should I be asking if you're okay?" He asked casually.

"What?" She hesitated to answer.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Fine...just thinking about today. This almost one-year thing."

"Is that good or bad?" He asked slower. She shook her head and held onto the railing, only to turn herself around to completely face him. Her mouth opened to speak, groping for words but nothing came. She sighed in frustration and shrugged her shoulders.

"We are both...terribly screwed up people. In that we find each other. In that we find peace, we find a sense of happiness. We even find love. We found it. But. Why do I feel like I have doubts...why do I still feel like we have something missing, that things aren't going to work out?"

"How long have you been thinking about it?"

"It's on and off, day to day. Things just-happen...and it instills doubt in my mind."

"-about me...right?" He said softly. "So break it off then." Her eyes shot up like deer in the headlights.

"End it if you're scared. If you have doubts, end it."

"No! You're not going-"

"Just end it!" She didn't answer. Her eyes welled up, and she darted for an exit. She flew across the room and went to slip on her jacket, unknowingly grabbing his instead, fleeing the scene. He chased after her after grabbing her coat.

He caught her speedwalking in some other direction and limped steadily to her.

"Hey!" He grabbed her by his jacket which she had put on, and pulled her back.

"I let you walk away...652 chances you took. 653rd won't cut it this time." He said. She wiped her face of tears which left behind a somber expression. He took his hand and held her chin to bring her eyes to meet his.

"I am screwed up," he began. "and in that I know I will always be screwed up. I will-always be able to make mistakes, beyond the extent of which you are willing to forgive. I'm willing to accept that. That one day, I will do or say something stupid, and I know you will not forgive me...and I will lose you-"

"Stop that," she cut him off and took his hand off her face. "stop debasing yourself. I didn't mean it that way."

"You're scared. Stop lying to me. Now that were together, I have all the more reason to hurt you, before you can hurt me. You're afraid of being with me because of the possibility that you'll get hurt, far worse, than I have done in the past."

"Is it wrong to be scared when I've dealt with that crap for years?" Their voices began to tense. She continued.

"I don't want a love-and-hate relationship with you. I need to know that no matter what happens to us, you will be there for me to lean on. Not the other way around. I don't want to resent you-"

"Like thirteen, it goes both ways. If I so choose to spend the rest of my life with you, we lean on each other. As my part, I will do, whatever it takes. Whatever it takes to get through, understand? I am willing to face hurt. I am willing to endure it if it's you. Because in that hurt...I-It's always been you. It always will be you. I can't change that. It's somehow not in my control." He grabbed her again, by the jacket collar and kissed her. She fit into him-his every curve, every crook-n-cranny; her every bend-every dent. He let go and saw the worry in her eyes.

"I'm not gonna leave you. I see that's what you're afraid of. It's not going to be me who will end it. Ever. I need you more than you need me."

"I love you." She said.

"Then marry me," He said fast. "because I've decided to be even more selfish. I'm done sharing you."

"What?" She asked with a meek smile.

"My next puzzle fix I've decided to take is to figure out what you're doing the rest of your life." He said slow. She put her arms around his neck and be lifted her up.

"So is that a yes?" He asked.

He woke up in a heated sweat. He sat up in bed, staring next to him. He missed seeing the indents of the blanket on that side of the bed. Now, it was straight...flattened and pressed. The smell was gone now as well. The only thing left was his dreams every night, for those weeks straight-his devised scenarios for their anniversary, and how he would ask her to love him forever. As surreal as they were, he found a sense of release...his fears were stripped or fixed, and he could live happily in his dreams forever.

As for her, she knew of his dreams...she felt the same ones every night. There was an everlasting ache in places she didnt know she could feel...and she cried over those pains every night.

Their desires were clear...but in the face of reality, at this moment in time they could not be granted their wishes. However, if maybe time could grow their hearts...their minds...their beings, fate might take a step in once again to lead them back. To where? Where the creases in their hearts and souls connect...forever bound by an unconditional love that does not alter.


End file.
